


Wake Me When It's Over

by firesonic152



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (Reaper isn't actually Gabriel though), M/M, Monster Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Size Kink, Somnophilia, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:36:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firesonic152/pseuds/firesonic152
Summary: “Maybe you should just fuck me awake or something,” Jack had said dryly the last time they’d discussed it over breakfast. He’d given Reaper’s lower half a pointed look across the table and added, “I bet I’d have a hard time sleeping throughthat.”(Written for the Monster in Your Bed monster76 zine)





	Wake Me When It's Over

**Author's Note:**

> Super excited to finally share this! This zine was such a pleasure to work on, I hope everyone enjoys it!
> 
> (For those who didn't get the zine, all you need to know is that Gabriel was Jack's late husband and Reaper is a separate entity that Jack is currently in a relationship with. You can see more [@monsteR76zine](https://twitter.com/monsteR76zine) on twitter!)

Like most humans, especially among those who had survived particularly traumatic experiences, Jack had nightmares.

Despite being a naturally light sleeper – a condition that had only been exacerbated by his time as a soldier – he could lose himself in the labyrinth of his dreams. The ghosts of his past, so flimsy during the day, became all too real in the dark. Once ensnared in their web, he was nearly impossible to wake.

The difficulty lay in finding something that was strong enough to physically drag him back to consciousness, but not so vicious that it gave him a panic attack instantly. Shaking, for instance, had no effect. Putting him in the shower under running water technically woke him up, but in a frighteningly dissociated state that wasn’t much better.

“Maybe you should just fuck me awake or something,” Jack had said dryly the last time they’d discussed it over breakfast. He’d given Reaper’s lower half a pointed look across the table and added, “I bet I’d have a hard time sleeping through _that_.”

Reaper had sputtered and assumed it to be a joke, but Jack’s expression had turned thoughtful.

“Actually, that might not be a bad idea,” he’d muttered, rubbing a hand across his stubbled face as he considered it.

“You would want that?” Reaper had asked incredulously.

“Why not?” Jack had shrugged and taken a sip of coffee, returning his attention to the newspaper. “It’s worth a shot.”

They hadn’t really discussed it since then.

Reaper was no stranger to nightmares; he fed on them, after all. When humans experienced fear during their waking hours, they had a tendency to clutch it tight and keep it hidden. Frightening dreams, on the other hand, struck people at their most vulnerable and seeped through their fingers without protest. The flood of terror was almost more difficult for Reaper _not_ to consume, which he supposed would be something like a human trying not to drink water as it was poured over their face.

What he hadn’t realized before Jack was that he could feel all sorts of dreams, if he tried. It wasn’t often that he did, because when Jack was not having nightmares, he tended not to dream at all. But every so often, Jack would settle into his side just right and dream of peaceful things in the quiet. They were always muted, radiating a contentedness that set Reaper at ease in slow, steady waves.

So when Reaper felt a spike of heat in the midst of that calm one night as they lay in bed together, he couldn’t tell what it was at first. He thought perhaps he had imagined it, because Jack’s dream settled right away. He shifted minutely, trying to get a read on the situation, but it was impossible to see Jack’s face nestled under his chin, fitting perfectly into the curved beak of his skull.

He was doing his best not to move Jack around too much, but the man was practically glued against him, legs tangled together and half underneath him. In his care not to accidentally crush Jack, Reaper put a little more weight into his knees and his thigh brushed up between Jack’s.

There it was again: a flare of heat, disrupting the gentle atmosphere.

Reaper paused, then tentatively let his thigh come down on Jack with a touch more pressure.

He could feel Jack’s dream spark at that, then resolve into an insistent smolder that seemed to curl and burst against Reaper’s fur like smoke.

It was lust, he realized with a rush of clarity. Jack’s subconscious state had landed firmly in arousal.

He should wake Jack up and take care of this, or let it die down on its own. He was leaning towards the latter, since Jack got so little sleep as it was. But when Reaper attempted to extricate himself, a low sense of distress tinted the dream. He remained where he was.

The yearning was seeping into Reaper’s veins, turning, curdling as it cycled through his body. He slid his thigh experimentally into Jack’s groin.

Jack’s body barely reacted, apart from a stutter in his heartbeat, a little more force behind his exhale. But Reaper could feel the heat as it pulsed inside him, spreading in a thick, rolling tide.

Could he do this without waking Jack first?

“ _It’s worth a shot_ ,” Jack had said. Maybe this could be a good test run, a lower stakes version of what he had suggested without the background of fear.

Reaper would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to try it.

Especially because Jack didn’t have the conscious will to voice it, but his desire was thick in the air, rolling off his skin, cloying and matting into Reaper’s fur. It pulled him in, weighing him down on top of Jack, wanting him, wanting wanting _wanting_ -

Reaper nuzzled at Jack’s temple as he formed a few smoky tendrils. They brushed against Jack’s throat before spreading down beneath his shirt, peeling the fabric delicately upward until it bunched under his arms. They curled around the shape of his exposed pecs, cautiously at first, and then with increasingly more pressure when Jack didn’t wake up. The tendrils solidified as they kneaded at the firm flesh, leaving behind little pink trails that bloomed innocently across his pale skin.

Jack’s lips parted for a soft shudder of a breath, his eyelids fluttering with it. Reaper paused, watching the way his hand curled limply by the pillow, chained in place with sleep and helplessly unguarded.

A calloused hand that had once ripped the life from mortal flesh, rendered powerless with trust.

For _him_.

Reaper’s form evaporated into the dream as the temperature spiked, losing himself somewhere in the whirling current. His every molecule was _buzzing_ as they shot off in all directions, a frenzy of collisions and ricochets until the heat seemed to melt them together into a dense soup of frothing hunger.

He wormed his way between Jack’s legs as his solid form began to take shape once more, sweeping the pajama pants away in the process. His hands reformed first, molding to the curve of Jack’s naked thighs and crushing into them as he pushed them open, talons leaving five red pinpricks to crown each budding purple handprint. Jack squirmed under the pressure, thigh muscles tensing as the dream bubbled and surged to burn off the pain.

Reaper’s tongue slithered out of the dark mass and pressed into the cleft of Jack’s ass, oozing thick saliva. It shoved inside and Jack clenched around it as it coiled and writhed to work him open. His mouth was pinched together, straining the low moan that spilled from his throat into something thin, hushed.

Reaper withdrew from his ass and moved up to lick the seam of his lips. It urged Jack’s head into tilting back, before rolling over to the side and exposing the column of his neck. Heat was pouring off his skin, sweet and clinging like a sheen of sweat. Reaper’s tongue slid down the length of it, jaw to collarbone, then wrapped around and gave a light squeeze.

The dream throbbed as Jack choked on a wisp of a gasp. Reaper solidified all at once, bearing his full weight down on top of him. He could feel Jack’s dick pushed against his stomach, hard and shamelessly slick. A shiver went through Jack’s hips, the reflex to grind against a warm body stifled by the force of Reaper holding him flat to the mattress.

 _Empty_ , it all seemed to scream, and Reaper’s gut twisted with it, the cold void deep inside still aching to be filled-

He thrust his cock inside Jack and all at once the heat became scorching. It was all he could do not to dissolve with the intensity of it. He buried himself in it as wave after wave of blistering need rolled over him, sliding deeper into the eye of the storm.

Once Jack had taken every inch his body could handle, the uncomfortable rigidity in his muscles seemed to fall away, like his strings had been cut. A single cold arrow of that peace from earlier pierced through the sweltering heat and it all settled into something softer, smoother. It radiated through Reaper, disentangling the fused mass of lust and weaving it back together with a calmer sort of want.

Even as the knot in his stomach loosened, his throat squeezed tight as he looked down at Jack, at the human’s body laid out under him, at the place where they were connected from the inside out.

It occurred to him that what he felt wasn’t just Jack’s sensations filtered through a dream, but the pleasure shared between them in the most intimate way possible.

Yet only Reaper could experience the way they swirled and merged together into something greater than the sum of its parts. Jack couldn’t reach outside of his physical self and into the depths of another’s very nerves, like Reaper could.

He tipped his forehead gently into Jack’s, flat bone meeting skin. He wanted to share this with him, he realized. He wanted Jack to feel what he did.

He moved and the pleasure rang through Jack clear as a bell, sharper without the distraction of Jack’s voice or thoughts to drown it out, reverberating within his flesh. It was almost too much. Fear, Reaper was attuned to, _built_ to seek out, but pleasure- Pleasure like this, in its rawest form, humid and dense, was going to burst him open.

He gripped Jack’s hips to steady himself as he began to go faster, pushing deeper. He needed Jack to know how much this gutted him, carved out every last place within him and filled it all up with Jack, only Jack Jack _Jack_ -

Jack arched weakly under him as Reaper’s dick swelled larger with every thrust. His jaw fell open but the scream tangled in the sleep clogging his throat. It was thrashing in his chest, vibrating frantically through his ribcage until Reaper was pounding into him to the rhythm of it. Splitting him open and hoping that it amounted to even a fraction of the way he had speared himself into Reaper’s very core.

Jack was separated from consciousness by a thread, one final strand pulled taut and stretched to its limit-

It snapped and Jack arched as he came, toes curling, thighs clenching around Reaper, the cry finally ripping from his throat.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jack rasped, wet and wrecked as a few teardrops dripped from the corners of his eyes. His hands flew to Reaper’s back, fingers knotting in the fur, desperate to just _hold on_ as that huge cock continued to thrust inside of him. “Fuck, fuck-“

Reaper’s tongue flicked down to tease at Jack’s hypersensitive dick and it sparked as the human writhed, numb shocks slipping down his back. Scooping up some of the come dribbling from the tip, Reaper plunged his tongue into Jack’s open mouth, cutting off the stream of curses.

Jack moaned around it, muffled but thrumming with the heat of their bodies moving against each other. Reaper drove his tongue deeper until the sensation of being run through from both ends prickled under his own skin. The familiar and inescapable thumping of another’s heartbeat echoed throughout every cell of his own body.

Jack’s right hand found Reaper’s left on his hip and _squeezed_. It burned like ice and Reaper hissed as he spilled inside of Jack, the edges of his form fizzing out into wispy smoke.

Jack coughed as the tongue was eased back out of his mouth, squinting up at Reaper with hazy eyes.

“God,” he groaned, the words scraped up from passing through his sandpaper vocal chords, “that’s one way to wake a guy up.” His lips teetered into a smile. “I guess it works.”

Reaper let his outer layer ooze apart a bit, molding himself to Jack to better tuck him back into his side, head nestled under his beak. A few drops of come dribbled out of Jack’s hole, still stretched around his dick. Jack clenched reflexively, biting at his lip.

Reaper rumbled with a laugh that petered out with a touch of nervousness. “You liked it?”

“Mm-hm.” Jack turned his nose into Reaper’s chest. His skin was warm. “I like feeling… like there’s no part of me that you can’t reach,” he mumbled.

Reaper’s form wobbled and melted just a little bit more. He wondered if Jack knew he would break himself apart piece by piece just to show him every last fragment.

“Go back to sleep,” he said.

“I already _was_ sleeping,” Jack groused toothlessly. “Then _someone_ woke me…”

Reaper shut him up with a gentle push of his hips. Jack inhaled heavily and went boneless, accepting the movement. As they rocked together, Reaper’s particles humming at a low frequency in a lumbering sort of purr, Jack’s eyes drooped shut.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hey if you like my writing, hit me up on twitter @firesonic152! I post lots of threads and have a ton more stories on there that you can check out.


End file.
